


Define Gravity

by Lucca_Devereux (orphan_account)



Series: From the Letters of John H. Watson [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lucca_Devereux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps, I think I should disregard all of my elementary knowledge of physics and gravity, for I have come to the conclusion that the world orbits around you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> A series of unsent letters from John Watson to Sherlock Holmes. None of these are in chronological order.

There’s something about you that evokes such deep sadness. It reminds me of gravity, and its relentless pull. I don’t blame you at all for pulling me towards you (half of that was me, in any case – we are opposite poles on a magnet), but sometimes I wish I could have all of the attraction without the emotional crossfire.

You see, when you risk your life to prove you’re clever, you make me do stupid things in order to keep you.

The thought of your life being extinguished like an unnecessary light feels like a dearth of oxygen; imagining any scenario in my reality without the impossibility of your genius beside me makes me feel like my legs have been cut out from under me. It’s a bit frightening, the way you have suddenly become my oxygen, my replacement drug. I suppose, that with your bright blue eyes (they see everything) and cutting mouth (it tells me everything I never knew), you’ve shaped the world back into order again. Action and inaction, order from entropy. It makes no sense. We shouldn’t be able to fit this way.

I shouldn’t be able to look at you and feel the world suddenly settle at the edges (regardless of the fingers in the butter dish, or your complete disregard for social convention. The completeness of you and me completely invalidates your shortcomings. They don’t matter anymore when you know how to make my life make sense.) But when I look at you—dark hair, pale lips, bright eyes—when I look at you, I see the world reflected back.

And perhaps, I think I should disregard all of my elementary knowledge of physics and gravity, for I have come to the conclusion that the world orbits around you. So, don’t ever leave me.

Don’t ever go where I cannot follow.


End file.
